


he was a superhero, he was a seamstress, can i make it any more obvious

by fvckradio



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Coworkers to lovers, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mentions of Violence, Minor Injuries, mentions of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26059471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fvckradio/pseuds/fvckradio
Summary: “Oh,” Sicheng said snakily. Kun glared at him in warning. “So you don’t know about Kun’s danger streak yet.”“Danger streak?” he looked up at Kun in confusion.“It’s not a danger streak, it’s just our job,” Kun huffed, continuing to shoot dangers at his partner.“Just wait,” Sicheng smirked. “Last week he jumped in front of a moving train to apprehend someone. And the week before that he jumped on top of a grenade. You’ve got your work cut out for you, Mr. Protection.”aka, when Kun was told they were getting a new designer for their super suits, he wasn't expecting him to be hot.
Relationships: Suh Youngho | Johnny/Qian Kun
Comments: 25
Kudos: 225
Collections: Johnkun Fic Fest Round 1 (2020)





	he was a superhero, he was a seamstress, can i make it any more obvious

**Author's Note:**

> #H035 for JKFF  
> "Superhero/seamstress (seamster?) au, one side of the ship is a costume designer for superheroes (kinda like Edna from Incredibles?) and either suddenly starts making or has been making the other halves costume for years. They constantly have to invent new technology and standards because their superhero partner keeps getting into more and more trouble."  
> prompter, I forgot the plot of Incredibles about a page and a half into writing this so it is accidentally an office au, however, I hope you still enjoy it.

One would expect the largest superhero headquarters on the west coast to be a little more stream-lined with their security screenings, but Kun once again found himself signing a clipboard and being handed a sticker with his name on it. 

“The computers are down,” the secretary, a young woman on an internship, said sympathetically. “We have to check everyone in by hand.” 

Kun nodded as he stuck the name-tag to his shirt. She was nice; she had been working at the front desk for a couple of months now and always smiled when she scanned his ID. They made small talk on days like this when the system was down and everyone decided to be mad at her. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Kun said reassuringly. “Have a great rest of your day.” 

She smiled as he waved goodbye and turned to the next person approaching the desk. Kun made his way over to the guard standing in front of the elevator. After a short exchange, Kun waved him goodbye and was finally on his way up to his office. The 35th floor was reserved for hero offices, not that they had much use for them, but Kun thought it was a nice place to take his lunch break and go through his paperwork. It was mostly his secretary’s office and he mainly spent his time there waiting for calls and bothering his intern. It was one of the nicer offices in the building. He had a skyline view and his own coffee maker and a couch. Chenle, his intern, had his own desk and a really nice computer. The shelves, the ones that a lot of the heroes used for their awards, were filled with books that Kun wasn’t exactly sure where they came from. He had a plant on his desk that he usually forgot to water, and a plaque on the wall that he refused to look at. It wasn’t home, but it was nice. A good view and good company, Kun referred to it as, when Chenle wasn’t within earshot. 

“Yo, Mr. Qian!” Chenle exclaimed as Kun opened the door. “Just the man I was looking for!” 

“Stop acting surprised to see me, Chenle,” Kun sighed, rolling his eyes. “And stop calling me that, it’s weird.” 

“Whatever you say, boss-man!” Chenle rolled his chair over to Kun’s desk. “You have a very exciting meeting this morning.”

“No meeting is exciting. Why can’t you just go to this one for me?” 

“Big Boss requested you,” Chenle said, handing Kun a file. “And also it’s exciting because it’s with the costume department.” 

“I still don’t find that exciting.” Kun flipped through the report he was handed. Chenle had done a good job, he’d have to look at it closer later before he signed it and passed it on. He wishes someone would have told him there was this much paperwork involved in being a superhero. 

“Are you even listening to me? There’s a new designer working downstairs, and you’re meeting with him in 20 minutes. And if my sources are correct, he’s really hot.” Chenle rolled his chair back across the room. 

“Jaehyun isn’t a source, Chenle,” Kun said. “He makes things up to make the office more interesting. Where’s this meeting.”

“Tenth-floor conference room,” he said quickly. “And that’s what I thought too but then I _saw_ him, Kun. He’s hot. He’s your type.” 

“Get back to work, Chen, you have a report due at noon.” Kun grabbed his coffee and keys off his desk as he made his way back out of the office door. He really didn’t spend any time there. He should start calling it Chenle’s office instead. He shouted over his shoulder as he made his way out the door, “And stop listening to Jaehyun’s bullshit, it’s bad for your brain.” 

So Jaehyun hadn’t been bullshitting. Kun had been spacing out in the conference room for the past fifteen minutes. He hadn’t heard a single word coming out of the director of costuming’s mouth, solely focused on the new face standing next to him. He’d been introduced as a recent graduate of the art institute in the city, the big one that Kun’s cousin wanted to go to. He hadn’t been introduced with a name, but Kun couldn’t pay attention to anything besides him. Chenle was right. He was his type. 

“And just to summarize, Mr. Suh will be taking over the design of your team, Mr. Qian. I think it will be a very good fit,” he directed at Kun. His head flew to face him, nodding and smiling to show he understood. The director continued: “I will leave you to talk to one another on when and how to coordinate for fittings.” 

Excusing himself, the director and his assistant, as well as the members of the costume department and a couple of other administrators that had sat in on the meeting left the conference room. It was just Kun and the mysterious new hire. And he _was_ a mystery. Mr. Suh was tall, for starters, taller than Kun, taller than most of the people Kun worked with. Messy brown hair and sleepy brown eyes. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome in a black turtleneck and leather jacket. Despite his all-black outfit, he still looked soft, fluffy hair and gentle eyes. He looked nervous too, his eyes following the crowd out of the room and down the hall. He was fidgety, for someone so tall and broad one would think he would hold himself higher, with those legs he could dominate the world, but he didn’t seem like the world-saving type. Kun supposes that’s his job. He was twisting a ring around his thumb, staring after his boss. Kun was at a loss. Chenle should have come with him. He coughs. They make eye contact. He coughs again. The new designer reaches out, handing him a bottle of water. Kun laughs nervously and takes a sip. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says sheepishly. “I’m Kun. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Johnny Suh,” the designer said, sticking out his hand to shake. “I should be saying that to you, you’re the superhero here.” 

Ah, the superhero thing. Always so quick to rear its ugly head and remind Kun he was not here to flirt, he was here to work. 

“So, how do you want to go about creating a schedule?” Kun steered the conversation back to what they were supposed to be talking about. This was not the time to ask him to get coffee, no matter how much he wanted to. “Should I have my secretary set something up for later this week, or do you have something else in mind?” 

Johnny hesitated, “If I’m being completely honest, my schedule is one hundred percent empty every day. But if you need to tell your secretary something, the sooner we have the meeting, the sooner I can get working.” 

Kun hummed in agreement. He flipped through his team’s schedules for the week in his mind. It would be difficult to set up a meeting with all of them early in the week, with Dejun, Kunhang, and Yukhei still on a mission until Thursday. Ten and Yangyang were both on a vacation too, but Sicheng would be around, and Kun could free up his schedule. He was nodding to himself about the possible schedule he’d created when he remembered he wasn’t alone. Mr. Suh was still standing awkwardly by the end of the table. 

“Myself and my partner could meet with you tomorrow, with the other members of our team meeting with you later on in the week, if that is alright with you. They’re currently out of the office and won’t be returning until the end of the week,” Kun explained. “I figured if we break it up it might be easier for you.” 

Johnny nodded and smiled when he made eye contact with Kun. He had a nice smile, the type that reached his eyes. Kun looked away, pulling out his phone to call Chenle. 

“Good, okay,” Kun nodded, not looking up from his phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“I don’t understand why we need new fittings,” Sicheng whined, as they got onto the elevator Tuesday morning. “Why can’t they just use the old measurements?” 

“I don’t know, Sicheng, but he’s new so please be nice,” Kun sighed as he pressed the button for the floor the costume department was located on. 

“I’ve heard plenty about him in Chenle’s email,” Sicheng said looking pointedly at Kun. “I’ve also heard he is your type.” 

Kun rubbed his eyes. “You both need to stop.” 

“Does he know about your habit of jumping off of buildings yet? Does he know you threw yourself into an explosion last week? Did he hear about-” 

“No, Sicheng,” Kun interrupted. “I can’t believe Chenle really said that on internal documents.” 

“Don’t stress so much Kun.” Sicheng swung his arm around his shoulder. “Chenle said they picked him because he specializes in protective gear. I bet he’ll love it when you put yourself in danger for no reason. And don’t blame Chenle, Jaehyun’s been gossiping on internal memos all week.” 

Kun looked pointedly at him as the elevator doors opened into the design space. It was a large, open space with large desks and a few mannequins pushed to the side. Towards the left, there were a few offices and a hallway leading to more private workspaces. A large collection of fabric samples made up the right side of the room. Right by the elevator was the secretary’s desk, but it was currently empty, a small sign asking people to sign in hung above a paper sign-in sheet. 

“Do you know where we’re supposed to be meeting this guy?” Sicheng asked as they approached the desk. 

Kun shook his head, peering around the room. A few people were lingering around the open space, but no one seemed to be paying them any mind. He replied, “no idea. I just thought someone would be here or something.” 

All of the sudden, someone shot up from behind the desk. His instincts took over, and Kun reached out to grab the other’s arm, spinning them around as he stepped back. He twisted their arm behind their back and dragged them onto the table. The other person exclaimed and—

“Oh my god, Johnny, I’m so sorry!” 

Johnny was stretched out across the desk, feet dangling inches above the ground, tips of his shoes scraping against the cement. The man’s long legs hung off the desk. His torso was languidly laid out in front of him. The black t-shirt he was wearing lifted, revealing a sliver of his stomach and the top of his waistband peeking out of his dark jeans. One of his arms was stretched above his head, which was thrown back against the desk. His other arm reached out for the edge of the desk, knuckles white as he gripped onto the table. Dark hair flopped in his eyes as he turned his head slightly to look at Kun. Johnny didn’t move, and Kun’s gaze didn’t lift from the way his body draped over the furniture. Breathless, Johnny inhaled sharply as his eyes flickered down ever so briefly. Kun could feel the blood rushing to his head, the hazy sound of adrenaline pulsing through his veins. His breath hitched as he exhaled, watching Johnny flick his tongue over his lips. With that, he snapped his head up. Dropping Johnny’s arm, which he had still been gripping as if it was his last lifeline, Kun stepped back and away from the man splayed out in front of him. 

“I am so sorry,” he hurried apologetically. “Are you okay? Can I do anything to help?” 

Johnny didn’t move, just closed his eyes and let out an exhale he seemed to have been holding. The grip his right hand had on the table had loosened and he was slowly, but steadily regaining control of his breathing. After another minute, Johnny lifted himself off the desk. Immediately, Kun was by his side, attempting to help him in any way he could. 

“I’m seriously so sorry, there is no excuse for this,” Kun lamented. He wrung his hands trying not to reach out to touch Johnny, that felt like too much. 

“It’s fine, really,” he said stretching his back. His voice was strained, tense. “Accidents happen.” The tension hung in the air, thick in between them. As he stretched, the sliver of skin peeked out from below his t-shirt again. He looked frazzled, similar to how he looked when they had met the other day. The air felt heavy, Kun struggled to breathe. And just like that, the string snapped.

“So now that Kun’s nearly killed you, can we do this fitting?” Sicheng interrupted. He waved as the two swung around to face him. Ignoring Kun, Sicheng reached out to shake Johnny’s hand, “I’m Sicheng, I don’t think we’ve met.” 

“Johnny, pleasure,” he said, smiling brightly. Excitedly, he continued, “So, we can just head on back to my workspace and get to it!” 

Sicheng smiled in response and nodded, gesturing for Johnny to lead them to his office. Kun stared after them for a moment before shaking his head and following them across the open room. Johnny led them down the hall and into the private studio spaces. Towards the end of the hallway, he directed them into a tiny room. Most of the room was taken up by a large worktable, with papers and fabrics haphazardly strewn across it. A clothing rack stood in the back of the room, just beyond the table, beside a couple of bare mannequins. To the right of the door was a desk with a sewing machine on top of it. The left wall was made entirely of whiteboards with various figure drawings and scribbles. Kun didn’t know Johnny very well, but it seemed like the type of space a man like him would keep. He gestured for Kun and Sicheng to take a seat by the table and immediately began rifling through his drawers. 

“Do you have any preference in who goes first?” Johnny asked, digging through the pile of papers in front of him. “I just need to find a tape measure.” 

“I can go first,” Sicheng offered. Quietly to Kun, he added, “give you some more time to ogle before he has his hands on you.” 

“I’ll kill you,” Kun replied under his breath. Johnny looked up, tape measure in hand. His hair flopped in front of his eyes and they sparkled as he pushed it back. He smiled again and Kun zoned out as he began directing Sicheng. Fittings were the most boring part of his job, he thought. It had been easy before the Director had given the green light for a fashion department overhaul because they had their measurements on file and would simply just put them in whatever fit. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten a new design for his super suit, let alone had his measurements taken for one. Overnight, he had attempted to do some research on the new designer. He’d found his Facebook and a couple of articles in some student papers about him as a design student. He’d even stumbled upon his digital design portfolio. However, the real gem had been finding his Instagram page. There, he had found not only dozens of photos of his design work but also his personal photography. Pictures of his friends and himself and nature and assumedly his dog, all of professional quality. Kun had scrolled through photos all the way back to what appeared to have been Johnny’s high school graduation before he decided it was a little bit weird to be investigating his newest coworker like that. He debated following him, Jaehyun and Chenle already did, but he was mortified at the reaction of Johnny, or even worse, Chenle, if he had followed his personal Instagram at 2 in the morning. Instead, he had decided to simply go to bed and hope he didn’t do or say anything too embarrassing in the morning. Well, it was a little too late for that. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the quiet conversation between the other two people in the room. Right, the fitting. 

“So how’d you land this gig?” Sicheng asked casually as Johnny wrapped the measuring tape around his wrists. 

“Luck, I guess,” Johnny chuckled as he wrote the numbers down on a notepad beside him. “I got lucky enough to intern here over the summer last year and they offered me a job after I finished my fall portfolio. My boss said he gave me this position because of how well my senior showcase fit with you guys, but I’m not quite sure why yet.” 

“What was your showcase about?” Kun chimed in, hoping he didn’t sound overly eager.

“Protective fashion and design. Making clothes that keep people safe while still looking sleek,” Johnny said casually. “Nothing too interesting, I suppose.” 

“Oh,” Sicheng said snakily. Kun glared at him in warning. “So you don’t know about Kun’s danger streak yet.” 

“Danger streak?” he looked up at Kun in confusion. 

“It’s not a danger streak, it’s just our job,” Kun huffed, continuing to shoot dangers at his partner. 

“Just wait,” Sicheng smirked. “Last week he jumped in front of a moving train to apprehend someone. And the week before that he jumped on top of a grenade. You’ve got your work cut out for you, Mr. Protection.” 

“Yeah,” Johnny awed, eyes not leaving Kun. “I guess we’re meant for each other.” 

A silence fell over them after that. Sicheng sent a brief wink Kun’s way over Johnny’s shoulder and he scowled back. When Johnny looked back over at him, he sent him a casual smile. The bright grin that took over Johnny’s face gave him butterflies. He swallowed them for the rest of the fitting and by the time he was back in the comfort of his office, they were long forgotten at the bottom of his stomach. 

The suits arrive exactly 15 days after their fitting. Seven costume bags lined up on a rack in Kun’s office when he arrived Wednesday morning. Chenle meets him at the elevator, practically vibrating while telling him all about Johnny’s excursion to his office to deliver his work. Kun can barely understand what he’s saying, distracted by the prospect that Johnny came all the way up to his office to deliver them. When he got to his office door, Sicheng was standing in the hall waiting for him, and the rest of the team was comically peeking out of Sicheng’s office. The five of them were obvious in the doorway but it appeared that whatever they were hiding from was oblivious to their actions. Before he even got the chance to ask, he was shushed and steered right into his own office, Chenle and Sicheng behind him. 

The costume rack stood in the middle of his office and standing next to it–

“Director,” Kun says, feigning calm. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

The Director smiles as he turns to face Kun, slowly and pointedly, yet it somehow felt friendly. Kun was frankly, surprised to see him here. It wasn’t often that the Director made himself known around the office, often preferring remote communications. He claimed it was for their own safety but the whispers on Jaehyun’s rumor documents were that he simply thought it was more fun to be mysterious. 

“Just hoping to check in on one of our best teams,” he said flippantly, waving a piece of paper in his hand. “I also wanted to see the new suits. Mr. Suh came highly praised and I expect the best of him.” 

“I see,” Kun replied. Interacting with the Director always left him feeling like he wasn’t on solid ground, unsteady even. He felt out of place in his own office and shivered under the Director’s gaze. 

“These are good, though,” the Director continues, voice chipper as ever. “Send my congratulations to Mr. Suh he’s going to fit right in. And please, Kun, don’t destroy all his hard work.” 

“With all due respect, sir, I am just doing my job.” 

“And doing your job you are. I’ll be in touch about your next team assignment sometime this week. Please don’t get yourself killed on this.” He made his way over to the middle of the room where Kun was standing. Kun nodded in agreement under his glare. There was no point in arguing with his boss anymore, just smile and nod until he gave up and left the room. His response seemed to be enough for the big boss as he marched his way towards the door. Suddenly, as if he had been struck with a reminder, he stopped in front of Kun.

“Oh! Before I forget, I believe this is for you,” the director said carefully. He held out the spare piece of paper for Kun to take. “It was on the rack. I apologize for... intruding.” 

Kun nodded and took the paper without opening it. The director gave them all one last look, eyes sweeping around the room before clasping his hands together and continuing. 

“Well, good to see you all,” he said nodding to them. “I’ll be sure to be in touch to see how the suits treat you.” 

And with that he was gone. They could hear him make his way down the hall, offering a quick “gentlemen,” to the five boys pretending to be hidden in Sicheng’s office still. When they finally heard the elevator close, they scrambled across the hall into the room. Over the back and forth of Ten and Yangyang’s bickering and Hendery, Lucas, and Dejun’s mad dash for the costume rack, Kun sat down at his desk, paper still in hand. He opened the note and stared at it in shock while everyone else continued to wreak havoc over his office. 

“What’s it say?” Sicheng asked, still hanging back from the rest of them, drawing everyone’s attention to him. Ten doubled back to his desk and reached over the table to grab the paper out of his hand. 

“Let me see,” Ten said loudly. He took a sweeping glance over the note, the awe taking over his face. “Oh! Oh god, Kun, really?” 

“My boss read that,” Kun sighed exasperatedly. 

“It can’t possibly be that bad,” Sicheng said, grabbing the note from Ten. He took longer to read over it than Ten, weighing his words before continuing, “Okay, it isn’t that bad.” 

“My boss read that,” Kun repeated. “I don’t care how bad it is, my boss read it.” 

“What’s wrong?” Lucas asked, turning away from the costume rack. 

“Kun is freaking out over the fact that his boss thinks he’s banging his designer.” 

“Oh my god,” Kun groaned. 

“Kun! Don’t feel bad! Johnny’s hot, no one is judging you for that!” Dejun chimed in from across the room. 

“You’re not helping,” Kun sighed, head in hands. 

“It’s not the end of the world, Kun,” Ten said sympathetically, “it’s a winky face.” 

“Stop reminding me.”

“A winky face!” 

Chaos overthrew the room. The boys were yelling over each other and pushing on a mad dash to snatch the note. Kun dropped his head down against his desk. Out the door, he could see Jaehyun peek into the chaos before he had to duck out of the way of Lucas and Hendery’s brawl. Kun let his eyes fall closed as the younger boys ran rampant through his office. 

“Let me see!” Yangyang exclaimed, practically climbing Ten to grab the note. The rest of them calmed down once he opened it and began reading it out loud. “This is so cheesy, ‘Kun - Hopefully this will keep you safe AND sexy, but if not you know where to find me ;) - Johnny’ Now that’s just gross, Kun.” 

“Give me that,” Kun scowled, standing and yanking the note out of the younger’s hands. “Nothing gross is going on, brat.” 

“Nothing gross, yet! Have hope, Kun!” Chenle chimed in from his own desk. “Jaehyun says your chances are high!” 

This brought on the second wave of chaotic yelling and arguing. Kun sunk back down into his chair and glared over to Sicheng who simply shrugged. When Kun scowled he offered a sneaky smile in response. He folded the note back in half and dropped it into his top desk drawer. Johnny had to have known what he was doing in leaving the note behind and Kun was going to get to the bottom of who planted that idea in his mind before he saw him next. 

“Are you going to answer that?” Ten said slyly, leaning back against his desk. Kun shoved him off. He had a pretty good idea over who started this. 

The note remained unanswered. He didn’t intend to accidentally ghost Johnny but, tragically, that was the life of a superhero. The team was swept up into a series of very complicated overseas missions and frankly, he forgot about it. 

Well, at least up until now. 

A run-in with some low-level explosives left Kun in the infirmary and his suit unusable. It did do its job, however. He walked away with only minor injuries; a few bumps and scrapes and no internal bleeding. That was an improvement from last time when he spent three days in the hospital before he was allowed to go back to work. 

24 hours after he’s released, Kun finds himself waltzing onto the costume department’s floor. Similar to last time, there is a sign-in sheet and no one at the desk. He peaks around just to be sure and when he’s certain there isn’t anyone waiting to jump out at him, he writes his name down and makes his way down to Johnny’s office. The open floor was emptier than the last time he had been here. Kun looked around cautiously as he walked down the same hallway Johnny had brought them down before. When he reached the frosted glass door that he vaguely remembered from the last time he had been there, he remembered the note. Fuck.

“Kun?” He felt his head whip around before he even realized he was doing it. Johnny was standing just down the hall, holding a coffee and looking at Kun like he was the most shocking thing in the world. 

Before he could stop himself he exploded, “I didn’t intentionally ignore your note.” 

“What?” Johnny laughed, making his way over to Kun to open the door. 

“I was going to reply to your note but then we got that important mission in Turkey and then I had to escort that doctor in Moscow and then they flew us off to Bangkok and now I’m back but then we got blown up and really it just all got ahead of me but I wasn’t intentionally ignoring you I wanted to make that clear to maintain our professional relationship.” Once he started he couldn’t stop. He followed Johnny into the office, standing out of the way while he maneuvered around and shuffled his papers.

“Blown up?” Johnny interrupts. “How was the suit?”

The suit? 

“The suit?” Kun stopped mid-sentence. 

“Yeah, the suit,” Johnny said, moving a pile of fabric off his work table. “Did I do a good job?” 

“Did you– what– well–” Kun stumbled. “I’m alive.” 

At this, Johnny laughed, head thrown back, eyes closed. The deep sound of his full-body laugh threw Kun off his axis and he felt himself holding out a hand to stop from falling. 

“Of course, yes, you’re alive,” Johnny said, still laughing. “I was hoping you would be alive.”

“What, you wouldn’t like me if I were a ghost?” Kun said before he could stop himself. Johnny laughed again, practically falling over his workbench. “What? Did you not consider that I could be haunting you for being bad at your job?” 

“Oh my god,” Johnny wheezed through his laughter. “Wow, okay. I still have a job right? They didn’t send you down here to haunt and slash or fire me did they?” 

“What? No!” Kun said, getting over his own fit of giggles. “No, I came down here to say the suit didn’t survive the explosion.” 

“Oh,” Johnny said, somberly. A beat passed and he smiled again, “that sucks. Guess we’ll have to do better next time! Sit down, tell me what worked, and didn’t. You have time, don’t you?” 

Kun was left off-balance again. At every turn, Johnny managed to surprise him and shift him off of solid ground. But he did have time. He sat down. 

The next suit was similar to the first. It was great, it really was, but there is only so much a piece of fabric could take and, well, Kun liked to stretch those limits. 

“What was it this time?” Johnny asks when Kun walks into his office on a Thursday afternoon. 

“Acid slime,” Kun sighed, throwing himself into his chair. “Apparently the bad guys have _aliens_ now.” 

“Hmm. Did the metal survive at all?” 

“It did, actually! You’re not planning on making me Iron man are you?” 

“No, no. I have an idea though.” 

Johnny’s ideas were, and Kun would never just say this because he knows him, very very good. He knew what he was doing with fabric and design, simple as that. Sicheng reminded him of the note he’d left on the first one and Kun threw a knife at him in retaliation. Maybe Johnny was doing a great job keeping him safe and sexy but _Sicheng_ didn’t need to know that. 

The third suit didn’t fare much better, nor the fourth, and soon enough Johnny was making new costumes before the old one got wrecked. Johnny would show up with new materials, new technology, new gadgets. Every week there would be something new on his desk, with a matching note to go with it. Kun didn’t tell anyone about those, however. He let them pile up in his desk drawer next to the first one. 

They fell into a routine. They would meet in Johnny’s office to discuss his ideas or concerns and new movies and their favorite recipes. It started once a week, then twice, then it was like there was never a time when Kun wasn’t getting lunch with Johnny. They would go get coffee together, or dinner if the day was getting late. As time passed, Kun found himself bringing his paperwork down to Johnny’s workspace. He said it was more peaceful and the change of scenery was good for him and that he “needed time away from those heathens.” In private, no one believed him. Kun didn’t really think it was that big of a deal, so what he ate lunch with Johnny most days, they were friends. 

“So no boyfriend today?” Yangyang asked as he waltzed into the office and plopped himself down on Chenle’s desk. They had taken to eating together with Kun off with Johnny and Ten on a long weekend vacation. The younger of the two scowled at him but did nothing to kick him out. 

“Boyfriend?” Kun asked. “What are you talking about?” 

Yangyang, who had managed to open his lunchbox and take out his salad, stopped mid-bite. With his hand suspended in front of his mouth, he tilted his head, confusion seeped into his voice, “your boyfriend? The one you eat lunch with all the time? The one you spend all your time with? The one you talk about constantly? You know, boyfriend.” 

“Are you talking about Johnny?” Kun replied irritably. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” 

His tone must have been sharper than he intended because Yangyang shrunk behind his salad tupperware container. Chenle averted his eyes when Kun looked in his direction. 

“Oh,” he answered quietly. “I just thought– you were spending so much time together– and you both like each other– and Jaehyun said– I–”

“Don’t assume things, Yangyang, it’s bad for your health,” he interrupted. “Johnny is my friend, I spend time with him just like I do with you and Chenle and everyone else who works here. Don’t look so guilty, just don’t worry about it.” 

“Okay,” he said mousily. 

“And don’t gossip about people, that’s why Ten won’t let you come over.” 

Yangyang scoffed in shock and choked on his food. Chenle patted him on the back indifferently. 

“Ten doesn’t let you over because you’re annoying, he gossips more than the rest of us,” Sicheng said from the doorway. He walked in casually, like it was his office to begin with, Jaehyun peaking around the corner behind him. “Kun you shouldn’t lie about why you spend so much time with Johnny it doesn’t look cute on you.” 

“Why are you all so obsessed with me?” Kun groaned. “I’m not lying about anything.” 

“Sure, and Johnny isn’t going to come and pick you up for lunch in twenty minutes because he’s getting metal-woven fabric for your supersuit,” Sicheng said off-handedly. “Jaehyun just come sit down, he isn’t going to kill you because you told us where Johnny was going.” 

“What does it matter what Johnny is doing?” Kun said, ignoring Jaehyun, Yangyang, and Chenle’s stares. “So what? He’s doing his job.” 

“You’re so dense,” Sicheng said shortly. “Yangyang, why are you eating a salad, you don’t like salads.” 

And just like that, they fell back into the comfortable banter they were used to. Yangyang complained about his roommate’s latest health kick and how he’d been packing him lunches since Ten was out of town. Kun pushed any thoughts of Johnny out of his mind. Everything was fine. 

Just as Sicheng predicted, Johnny stuck his head in twenty minutes later, just as Kun was finishing up a report on their latest mission in New York involving a group of international technology smugglers. He peaked around the corner with a polite smile and a nervous wave. Before Kun could say anything, the boys were practically dragging him into the room to greet them. 

“I never see you!” Yangyang exclaimed. Kun could hear the trouble on his tongue but to blind ears it sounded earnest. 

“Well,” Johnny chuckled, “have you had any issues you haven’t told me about?” 

“No! But I have the best idea for Ten’s suit–“ 

“If it involves anything to do with the Avengers he already told me to ignore you.” 

“It’s not the Avengers!” Yangyang protested, waving his salad fork in the air. 

“Johnny is not making anything based off of a comic book,” Kun said standing up. “Are you ready to go?” 

Johnny nodded, eyes wide as Yangyang groaned and kept complaining, “the X-Men are cool! You don’t want to do anything fun!” 

“This is why Ten doesn’t like you,” Sicheng called out. “Have fun on your date Kun!” 

Kun slammed the door behind him. 

“I’m so sorry about them,” he said, rolling his eyes and pulling on his jacket. “They’re all ridiculous.” 

“They aren’t that bad,” Johnny said cautiously, pressing the elevator button. 

“You don’t need to lie,” he replied. “Anyways, where are we going?”

This seemed to distract him from any thoughts about the tail-end of the conversation in Kun’s office. Kun attempted to follow Johnny’s explanation of what he had planned for their day. He was rambling about the new sandwich shop down the road and how he had passed it on his walk to work and how they had the best paninis he had ever tasted. He nods along as Johnny rants on about the coffee and the nice girl at the counter. Kun falls into the comfortable companionship he always felt with Johnny. Of course, like most things in Kun’s life, the comfort was brief. 

The moment they found a table, Johnny turned to look at him with wide eyes, glassy and curious. 

“What?” He asked, freezing in the middle of putting down his coat. 

“So are you like the Black Widow of the team?” 

Kun started back, “the what?” 

“The Black Widow,” Johnny continued. “You know. Scarlett Johansson, Russian assassin, sexy catsuit, no superpowers.” 

“Is that supposed to be a reference to those superhero movies?” Kun asked, irritated. Before Johnny could reply, he kept going, “God those are so inaccurate. You know, they’ve been awful for the super community both with and without powers. Not to mention you of all people should know how unsafe and illogical those costumes are. And don’t even get me started on the government intervention–” He cut himself off when he saw Johnny’s face. “That was supposed to be a compliment, wasn’t it?”

“More just an... observation. Or a joke,” Johnny replied slowly. He said, panicked, “not that i think you’re a joke. Just like, you know, stereotypical movies, real hero, like, alignment.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at the table and playing with his fingers. 

Kun paused for a moment to think. “Black Widow is the one with the guns right?” 

“Yeah.” Johnny’s reply came out quickly, like he was nervous. 

He hummed. “So that makes Sicheng Hawkeye.” 

“I– I guess so.” 

“Perfect. He’ll hate it.” Kun smiled, eyes twinkling. His mind was going a mile a minute, but he tried to keep that hidden. He tries making Johnny less nervous, gives hints that he hasn’t done anything wrong. 

“And what about you?” he asked, breaking the silence that was quickly falling over them.

“Me?” Kun asked, surprised. He wasn’t expecting it, takes a moment to think about it. “I don’t like guns.”

Johnny humed in reply and picked up his coffee to take a sip. Kun didn’t let the silence settle before he continued, “but it’s up to you if I could do a sexy catsuit.” 

Kun came back to the office flustered. Everyone else had cleared out after lunch, even Chenle, off to some staff meeting superheroes didn’t need to know about. Everyone except Sicheng who sat in the chair beside Kun’s desk with his feet kicked up.

“Johnny said you’re Hawkeye,” he said, before he even looked in Sicheng's direction. He fell back into his chair, exhausted.

“What?” he said, shock obvious in his voice. 

Kun, frankly, did not want to have this conversation. He had hoped to come back to his office and decompress before having to hash out his lunch with Johnny. He replied anyways, “yep.”

“No,” Sicheng gasped leaning forwards in his chair. Kun dropped his head into his hands.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he heard himself mumble. 

“Does that mean–,” his partner continued, stunned.

Kun interrupted, “stop.”

“Oh my god.” Sicheng exclaimed loud enough that Kun was certain the whole building could hear him. Apparently it was enough for Yangyang to hear at the very least because he came barreling through the door.

“What?” he asked, out of breath. Kun groaned, let his head fall against his desk. Sicheng didn’t miss a beat, spinning his entire body to face their teammate in the doorway.

“Johnny’s going to put Kun in a sexy catsuit.”

Johnny did not, in fact, put Kun in a sexy catsuit. 

Things continue as normal, they get lunch, they talk about work and movies, but Kun can’t help but wait for the second shoe to drop. He’s been texting Chenle more often again, practically begging him for things to keep him busy to avoid whatever is hanging over him. It hadn’t even taken one full day for half the building to hear about Kun’s rumored catsuit and he was too afraid to ask if Johnny had heard about it. He must have. He still didn’t ask. 

Business, of course, continued as usual. Kun still had missions, and when he phone rang while he was on his way to lunch with an emergency call, well, he couldn’t be bothered to let anyone know. Sicheng was in his ear, yelling about a giant, uncontrollable robot in downtown, of course, he forgot to call around. This was, of course, a mistake. 

The mission itself went fine. They were able to stop the somehow sentient robot with a few well-calculated strikes and somehow moved it far enough out that the only infrastructure damage was an Exxon gas station. Kun’s team was good at what they do, some would say the best even. That did not mean, however, that they didn’t make mistakes. 

Like Kun falling down the stairs. That was a mistake. 

Somehow, despite everything going without a hitch, Kun was in the infirmary. Loopy on pain medicine and lack of sleep, he felt like he was floating. The fact that his suit was fine and he had no reason to see Johnny when he was released flashed through his mind and he felt himself crash to the ground. He slumped back against the bed. This sucked. 

He doesn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he woke up, someone was knocking on the door. 

“Knock, knock,” a familiar voice said, peeking around the door frame. “I heard you got hurt, and it wasn't my fault this time.” 

“Johnny?” he slurred, twisting to look at the other. 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “You look rough. What happened?” 

“I fell down the stairs,” he sighed, eyes falling closed again. 

Johnny has the audacity to laugh at this. He chuckled, “and that messed you up this bad? You were practically fine after you got hit by that bus last weekend!” 

“It was a lot of stairs,” he mumbled. “And I didn’t have anything to protect me.” 

“Are you saying this is my fault?” Johnny asked dumbfounded. Kun looked over at him, squinting his eyes. He looked pretty, even in the gross light of the hospital room. Damn him and his perfect hair and perfect skin and perfect everything. Johnny, of course, didn’t notice Kun staring at him. He just threw his head back and laughed. “Are you saying I need to be making gear to keep you safe all the time?” 

Kun considered it for a moment, let it settle over him before he spoke, “Yeah, probably.” 

Johnny let out another laugh. If Kun was any higher, he would think he looked fond, but he isn’t so he doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his head and looks at Johnny with a confused expression. 

“You’re so dumb,” he breathed out in between laughs. “So, so dumb.” 

“What?” Kun said nervously. 

“You’re so dumb,” Johnny just repeated, shaking his head. “God, you are so dumb I might be in love with how dumb you are.” 

“What?” he said again. His jaw dropped. This was not at all the sequence of events he was expecting. He wondered for a brief moment if this was all just a drug-fueled delusion. He pinched himself. “Ouch.” 

“Did you just– oh my god you’re so– if I ask you to get lunch will you accept it as a date?” Johnny wheezed. He stood wide-eyed beside Kun’s hospital bed. 

“Are you… are you asking me on a date… because I fell down the stairs?” he hesitated. 

Johnny barked out a laugh. “I’m asking you on a date because I want to ask you on a date, falling down the stairs is just a bonus.” 

“A bonus,” Kun repeated. “Are you being serious?” 

“Yes, I’m serious,” Johnny laughed. He caught himself and coughed, brought his voice down. “I’m serious.” 

“Oh,” Kun contemplated. “Yeah, we can get lunch. Can I leave today or do we have to raincheck?” 

“We can go tomorrow,” Johnny replied. “As a date right? This is going to be a date?” 

“I’m on drugs, not an idiot, John,” Kun deadpanned. “It’s a date. I can’t believe I’m saying this.” 

“Okay,” Johnny sighed, shoulders relaxing. “Okay, cool. Cool, um, I’ll see you then. You should rest, while you're, here.” 

“Okay, Johnny,” he said, yawning. His words began to blur together as he continued, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you,” Johnny said one more time before he started for the door again. Kun sighed happily. When the drugs wore off, he would realize the reality of the situation, but for now, he simply floated in the bliss of his soon-to-be date with Johnny. Sicheng was going to get a kick out of this. Kun gasped. 

“Before you go,” Kun called out. “Before you go, does this mean you will make me a sexy catsuit now?” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this !!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/realitysuh)


End file.
